


Learning Curve

by Hambone



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: M/M, Polyamory, Sticky Sex, Threesome, Touchy-Feely, giggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2014-07-05
Packaged: 2018-02-07 13:16:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1900302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hambone/pseuds/Hambone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wreck-Gar doesn't understand why some people are so resistant to sharing the love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Learning Curve

**Author's Note:**

> Request for jock-jockey on my Tumblr! I hope you like it!

“What the- _for the last time, you walking hunk of scrap, do not do that to me while I’m working!”_

It was not as unusual of an exclamation as it seemed, and everyone in the living room simultaneously sighed and palmed their faces in second-hand embarrassment.

“I will not bother you while you are working!”

Wreck-Gar stumbled out into the common area, smiling brightly as though Ratchet hadn’t just left a small dent in his helm with whatever implement had been nearest. He perked as he noticed their stares, not in any way worried by the obvious cloud of awkwardness floating above the room, and made his way merrily over to the fuel dispenser to find something to ingest. Optimus sighed.

“I can’t deal with this again.”

As if by reflex, everyone’s gaze converged on the same point. From the couch, Bumblebee loosened his shoulders, not taking his optics from his video game.

“I’m too young. And busy. Don’t bother.”

“Bumblebee…” Optimus’s tone was warning, but he slumped with recognition that he was right.

“Well, if Ratchet can’t do it, then I guess I’ll have to-”

“What are you guys talking about?”

With a mouth as loud as his, it was a wonder Wreck-Gar could surprise anyone ever, but as it was Optimus nearly jumped out of his paintjob.

“Wreck-Gar! We were, uhm,” a cursory glance around the room was all he needed to know he wasn’t getting help any time soon, “well, look, uh, ‘buddy’, we need to talk.”

The garbage truck brightened.

“I am Wreck-Gar! I am not a very good listener!”

“Tell us something we don’t know,” Bumblebee grumbled from the couch, shrinking when he felt Optimus’s glare upon his back.

“Wreck-Gar, the thing is…you know we’re only hard on you sometimes because we care about what’s best for you, right?”

He regretted the words as soon as they came out, but it was too late.

“Aw, I care about you too!”

Before he could cover himself Wreck-gar was on him, squeezing Optimus to his chest with a strength none would assume he was capable of. Optimus spluttered, trying to push away, but Wreck-Gar only held on tighter, rubbing his geometric head against his helm with unsuppressed adoration.

“This-this is exactly what I’m trying to talk about, Wreck-Gar!”

His words fell on muted receptors. He hugging persisted, much cooing and squirming included.

“Please, just listen to me!”

 Wreck-Gar pulled back a moment, and Optimus thought he had won. Unfortunately, they parted just enough for Wreck-Gar to plant a wet kiss right on his mouth. Spluttering, Optimus did manage to push him off then, slapping a hand to his lips, mortified.

“Wr-Wreck-Gar!”

The bot in question just bounced back on his heels, smile only just beginning to waver as he realized his joyful embrace was not well received.

“Perhaps we should wait to discuss this until we have a better tactic prepared.”

Prowl spoke with the same cool tone as always, but it was clear from his posture that he was trying not to laugh. Bumblebee took no such courtesy and rolled off the couch in spasms of giggles, not even caring as his game avatar rolled straight off a cliff to defeated sounding trumpets.

“Just- just go outside or something.”

Optimus didn’t mean to sound as angry as he did, but this was becoming a problem. Or rather, it had been a problem before and was only just getting to the point where any of them felt the need to deal with it. Wreck-Gar meant well, he really did, but he was just so physical and none of them were exactly comfortable with it. Particularly since he was the second largest bot of the crew.

Thankfully, the largest bot in the crew always knew exactly what to say, and when Wreck-Gar found him, he did just that.

“Come on, buddy, we talked about this.”

Wreck-Gar crinkled his brow, smile never wavering even as he blinked in slow forming confusion.

“We talk about a lot of things, _buddy!_ ”

Bulkhead sighed, exasperated but unwaveringly adoring. He knew it was always going to be a bit of a struggle with things like this, especially when Wreck-Gar was so physical by nature, but things really were getting out of hand and Prime was at his wit’s end.

“The kissing, Wreck-Gar.”

“But Optimus told me that you kiss people who you love!”

“You do, but-”

“And I love everybody!”

Rolling over on top of the larger bot, he threw his arms around Bulkhead in a crushing hug, presumably in an attempt to demonstrate his problem. Bulkhead huffed, vents puffing out steam wearily.

“I know you do, buddy, but you gotta stop touching everyone like that! They don’t like it when you get too close.”

Wreck-Gar frowned.

“But you like it, don’t you?”

“Of course I do!” he did. “You just have to remember that love is different between us than it is with you and them, okay?”

Excited, Wreck-Gar wriggled in Bulkhead’s lap like a happy dog.

“I know that! I don’t sit on any of them!”

Laughing but uncomfortable as the weighty bot jumped up and down on his stomach, Bulkhead pushed at him a little, half stoking and half hoping to calm him down.

“Look, they just don’t like it when you do that stuff around other people, okay? It’s embarrassing.”

Wreck-Gar perked.

“Oh, so I can ‘get close’ to Optimus when we are alone?”

Bulkhead couldn’t stifle his chuckle, bouncing his passenger along with his gut.

“I don’t think Optimus would like that. He isn’t very, uhm, experienced with that kind of thing.”

Cocking his head to the side, Wreck-Gar smiled.

“I am not very experienced!”

I was the tone he used when parroting something someone had told him about himself, probably Ratchet. Bulkhead tapped a servo along his waist.

“I think we both know _that_ isn’t true.”

Wriggling again, Wreck-Gar gasped with glee.

“It isn’t?”

“You know that!”

Flattening himself on Bulkhead’s chest, Wreck-Gar sidled up to his helm, glancing around conspiratorially. The angle allowed some of the junk from his garbage compartment to spill out, clattering to the ground around them as well as landing liberally on Bulkhead himself, but he didn’t seem to notice much other than Wreck-Gar’s words as he stage-whispered.

“You mean _intimately?”_

Rolling his optics, Bulkhead nodded. The enthusiastic giggling that followed was enough to break his very mild consternation right in half.

“Well, yeah.”

Wreck-Gar jumped forward, pressing several little kisses to Bulkhead’s jaw.

“Good! I like that!”

Bulkhead wanted to continue chiding him about trying to kiss every living thing in sight but Wreck-Gar was rubbing his entire body against him, arms spread around his impressive gut in an attempted hug that quickly gave way to groping. Wreck-Gar was as enthusiastic about figuring out the tricks of anatomy as he was with everything else, even more so, perhaps. Bulkhead just had so much on him to explore and express affection towards.

Sliding down his ample stomach, Wreck-Gar began to move his attentions lower. Bulkhead propped himself up on his elbows, watching with mildly embarrassed amusement as well as checking to make sure the door was, in fact, locked. It was.

“I want to do that now!”

Whatever ‘that’ was could mean anything but Bulkhead was already heating up and had no qualms about retracting his interface panels. Wreck-Gar hummed happily, already lowering his helm his peck at Bulkhead’s fat spike. Bulkhead jumped at the sudden stimulation and Wreck-Gar giggled, wrapping his lips around the head while his fingers kneaded his thick hips. Wreck-Gar wiggled his backside like a pleased cat.

“S-slow down!”

Bulkhead was not exactly overwhelmed, but it seemed like things were accelerating at a wild pace he was worried he couldn’t keep up with. Wreck-Gar was too enthused, though, just happy to be there, having fun, and he couldn’t bear to interrupt. Particularly not when Wreck-Gar’s lips, sloppy with over exuberance but practiced enough to still send licks of electricity up his spine were travelling lower to the top of his valve.

“Dun wna.”

It was the closest thing to words he was going to get, Wreck-Gar fully mouthing his valve as he buried his face between Bulkhead’s legs. He could only see his backpack over the swell of his own stomach, but he could acutely feel the wet slip of Wreck-Gar’s faceplates against his equipment. He was really lubricating now, gushing eagerly as a tiny tongue pushed as deep as it could between the fat folds of his valve. Wreck-Gar’s nasal ridge and helm cover kept brushing gently against his bobbing spike, and Bulkhead bucked against the touch.

Wreck-Gar liked using his mouth. Trying to find a good balance between stimulating the spike and the now dripping valve before him, his fingers skittered between the two to take up where his lips left off. Bracing himself against the concrete with a clawed servo, Bulkhead tried to stay at least semi-upright. It was not an easy task, partially because he was laughing.

“Starting without me?”

Bulkhead jumped, but Wreck-Gar wasn’t even phased, lifting his dripping face away from Bulkhead’s valve to smile widely.

“Hi Prowl!”

The ninjabot dropped from the ceiling vent, smoothly making his way toward the couple.

“Took you long enough.”

Bulkhead was genuinely sarcastic but the words carried no ill will. Prowl did like his dramatic entrances.

“Optimus was being a little harder to calm down than usual.”

He smiled knowingly.

“I feel he has not experienced many kisses outside of our friend here’s.”

Wreck-Gar braced himself on Bulkhead’s aft and licked his lips messily.

“Is he coming too?”

“Not yet.”

Prowl ran a hand up the length of Wreck-Gar’s arm, enjoying the heat the pair gave off.

“Well, now that I’m here…”

Bulkhead’s hand smoothed up his back.

“Bulkhead told me I shouldn’t kiss Optimus Prime, but if he’s coming eventually then why can’t it?”

Prowl laughed at that.

“Well, it makes him nervous.”

Wreck-Gar leaned into Prowl’s hands, hugging and nuzzling him, completely forgetting his filthy state. Prowl grimaced but let it happen, a little more humored than disgusted.

“Why? It’s so nice!”

His hands had idly found Bulkhead’s spike again and was stroking it, wetter now as his lubricants had been spread everywhere by his earlier attentions. Bulkhead hummed pleasurably, letting his head drop back. This was Prowl’s problem now.

“Because,” Prowl started, a little halting in his word as he too began to grow warm, “it’s private.”

“Why?”

Wreck-Gar perched on his knees, his own panel having opened some time ago, though he didn’t seem to notice. His spike bobbed happily between his thighs, a little trickle of lubricant already shining against his plating. Prowl licked his lips.

“That’s just the way it is. These bots, bots like us, from Cybertron…”

He moved forward, freely rubbing Wreck-gar’s plating.

“We were just taught to feel that way.”

Wreck-Gar wrinkled his face up, confused and amused.

“Well, that’s stupid!”

“A little.”

Bulkhead’s low rumble was accompanied by him raising a servo to cress across his own chest, lazily arousing himself further in time with Wreck-Gar’s egger hands. Wreck-Gar turned back to him, inching his hips closer to rub his leaking spike against Bulkhead’s valve, giggling a little at the feeling.

“He won’t feel that way forever,” said Prowl, hugging himself to Wreck-Gar’s back. It was difficult to get a good hold, with his backpack in the way, but Prowl was small enough to fit himself around it, practiced at hugging in ways the others would never suspect. Bulkhead may have been the first to reach out to the garbage truck, but Prowl was prepared when he joined them, months of secretively knowing weighing heavily on his processor. For someone who had been so shy about intimacy before, he found it easier and easier with time and exposure. Wreck-Gar never made either of those difficult.

“Come on, buddy,” Bulkhead moaned, and Wreck-Gar slid his spike inside, gasping joyfully. Prowl moved in to simultaneously stroke the larger bot’s valve from behind, teasing his fingers up to the point where his orange spike strained Bulkhead’s folds wide. Bulkhead spread his thighs a bit, allowing Wreck-Gar to press as close as possible so Prowl could sneak up behind, nudging him to bend forward and expose his aft. It didn’t take more than a few pushes, Wreck-Gar as shameless as ever in the face of pleasures.

Their size disparity meant prowl didn’t need to prepares him much, a few gentle massages of his finger’s inside the willing cut enough to get Wreck-Gar squirming and laughing. He was already pumping his hips into Bulkhead, the slow, shallow thrusts that the bigger bot liked making them both sigh happily. Prowl slid up to Wreck-Gar’s pelvis, thin spike kissing his valve between them.

“Are you ready?”

He still had to ask. Wreck-gar nodded.

“Rodger dodger!”

Prowl took the plunge. Wreck-Gar squealed, pushing back and forth between the heat around his spike and the heat inside his valve. Bulkhead, always easy going, was content to let them sort the positioning out, as long as that twisting, bucking motion didn’t stop and Wreck-Gar’s spike stay firmly inside him. Squeezing his calipers a little tighter, not quite in warning, he pressed his toe plates into the ground and raised himself higher for better angling.

Wreck-Gar may have been out of control, but if there was one thing Prowl was good at it was balance. Finding a rhythm, even amidst the rampaging chaos of Wreck-Gar’s passion, he saw his perfect moment and struck, each thrust hitting home harder than the last. Hugging himself to the broad back of the bot between them, Prowl gasped in barely repressed ecstasy. Wreck-Gar’s untrained valve rippled and clenched around him in a sporadic yet wonderful cadence, the very embodiment of the wild, untamed nature of innocence that the ninja had grown to love.

Grabbing handfuls of Bulkhead’s stomach, Wreck-Gar held on as best he could and rocked between them with uninhibited glee. It was hard not to be happy when people he loved were around him, enjoying themselves and touching him all over and hugging and kissing his waist-!

Overloading, Wreck-Gar jumped, his spike and valve bursting with fluid as he let out a strangled noise of rapture that was not quite a moan and not quite a laugh. His valve contracted tight and prowl braced himself hard against the floor, thrusting with steadily increasing speed as their entanglement tightened. Bulkhead was spreading his legs wider, coaxing Wreck-Gar through his final spasms with kind words as his own overload took him, slow and steady and longer-lasting than either of the others could possibly achieve. Larger frame types had that perk, apparently, and Bulkhead had been the most experienced of the three of them and therefore knew to exploit it. Wreck-Gar rode through it admirably, his continuing movement forcing Prowl towards his own climax with considerable velocity.

Wreck-Gar collapsed on top of Bulkhead, who groaned at the added pressure, finally spent beyond continuation. Still, he squeaked and squawked as Prowl worked at his valve, reaching around to finger himself as he finally came, spike discharging with considerable force into his willing partner. Bucking back one last time, Wreck-Gar’s valve gave a little twitch around him, overstimulated. He hummed, almost a purr, cuddling in to Bulkhead’s stomach as Prowl pulled out and slid around to his front, getting in on the hug.

“You guys are great!”

Even though he expressed the usual amount of innocent truthfulness, he was clearly tired, optics offline as he pressed his face into Bulkhead’s stomach. Bulkhead himself, still glowing with pleasure, nodded vaguely.

“You too, bud.”

Prowl kissed his chest in lieu of words.

“Just don’t kiss Optimus anymore until he’s ready, okay?”

Wreck-Gar nodded, systems shutting down one by one into recharge.

“Optimus is silly.”

A surprisingly astute observation.


End file.
